


All Directions Are Lost When I Draw In

by AbandonShip



Series: The Adventures of Derek the Turtle [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Beginning Note Regards Mental Health Issues, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Language, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbandonShip/pseuds/AbandonShip
Summary: I promise I haven't forgotten about you and hope you can forgive me for taking so long on this.I've been very busy with work and school as well as mental health issues on top of that. I'm getting the help I need right now and encourage others who are suffering from mental illness to do so as well. Keep your loved ones close and always keep fighting!!!Enjoy!!!





	All Directions Are Lost When I Draw In

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I haven't forgotten about you and hope you can forgive me for taking so long on this.
> 
> I've been very busy with work and school as well as mental health issues on top of that. I'm getting the help I need right now and encourage others who are suffering from mental illness to do so as well. Keep your loved ones close and always keep fighting!!!
> 
> Enjoy!!!

 

Stiles plays with us on his bed. There’s a knock on the door. Mr. Stilinski peaks his head in the door and walks in.

“Hey, son” He says.

“Hey, dad” Stiles says.

“Hey, Sheriff” I say. “What’s cracking?” His eyes widen in surprise.

“Did one of your turtles just ask me what’s cracking?” Sheriff asks. He sighs deeply when Stiles nods his head. “Okay, werewolves were _ONE_ thing…but _NOW_ you’re turtles are talking??? What’s next? Dragons?”

“Dragons are actually-” Stiles starts to explain.

“No,” He cuts him off. “Don’t tell me…I don’t want to know.” Stiles hears his father mutter “Boy, do I need a drink” to himself before leaving the room.

 

Scott and Stiles play video games on the couch. Stiles the tortoise and I play tag on the coffee table in front of them.

“What’s new with you?” Scott asks.

“Nothing really,” Stiles shrugs. “How about you?”

Scott ignores his question. “Are you okay, dude?” He asks. “You seem off lately.”

Stiles hesitates for a long moment before pausing the game.

“Long story short,” Stiles starts to explain “Werewolves heal at the sight of their one true mate.”

“They do?” Scott says.

“They do,” Stiles says. “I have tons of sources to prove it too.” He clears his throat, and shuffles uncomfortably. “Now let’s say Derek got injured really bad and healed at the sight of me.”

“What are you trying to say?” Scott asks.

“Well, that’s the thing,” He replies. “Derek healed at the sight of me, Scott.”

“Huh,” Scott grunts. There’s a long pause. “Well, that’s uh…that’s really interesting because I’ve noticed that he heals super-fast whenever you’re around. I never really thought much of it though.”

“Peter knew about it and didn’t say a fucking thing!” Stiles yells.

“Why the fuck did Isaac and Peter know?” Scott asks. “But Derek and I didn’t?”

“I have a theory about that,” Stiles says. “What if the wolf half is fully aware of it but the human half is clueless?

“Hmm, maybe, yeah” Scott nods his head.

“It would explain why Isaac and you noticed but weren’t fully aware of it,” Stiles explains. “I’m not sure how Peter knew about it though – hell he was the one who told me.”

“Well, he’s older than us,” Scott suggests, “He’s probably more in touch with his wolf than any of us.”

“I told Derek, Scott,” Stiles says. “And he had no idea!”

“What did he say?” Scott asks.

“He told me that things don’t have to change between us,” Stiles says. “And that I have a choice.”

Scott and Stiles know each other better than anyone else in the whole world. Neither one of them needs wolf powers to know what the other’s feeling.

Stiles the tortoise and I watch in silence.

“Hey, come here,” Scott offers.

The human crawls over to bury his head in the wolf’s lap. Scott cradles his head, running his hand through his hair.

“I’d hate to be stuck with me too.” Stiles says as tears start to stream down his face.

“No, don’t do that to yourself,” Scott says. “You’re an amazing person, Stiles. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Hell, I’m lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have you too, Scott” Stiles smirks.  
“Derek and you are mates,” Scott tells him. “It wouldn’t make sense for him not to like you back.”

“But he hasn’t talked to me in two weeks,” Stiles says.  
“You know how Derek can be sometimes,” Scott says. “He probably just feels stupid for not realizing it before. Give him some time. Let him come to you when he’s ready.”

“Yeah…okay.” Stiles agrees.

The human watches dark fluid run up the werewolf’s veins, relieving his pain.

 

Scott comes over at least twice a day to ease his heartache. Stiles loses his appetite and spends most of his free time sleeping in his bed. He sleeps so much that he masters recognizing the difference between his dreams and reality. All of them are of Derek – visiting him late in the night. They’ll stare at each other for minutes without a word. Sometimes, the wolf will break the silence and apologize for his absence. Other times he’ll crawl into bed, draw Stiles close and nuzzle his face into the back of his neck.

 

Scott and Stiles set up their net and practice for the Lacrosse game tomorrow night. Stiles the tortoise and I watch them sweat to death in the afternoon sun.

“It’s so hot out today,” Stiles says before whipping the sweat off his forehead.

“You should try taking off of your shirts,” I suggest. “It’ll help.”

Stiles the tortoise giggles beside me.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Scott considers the idea.

 “You’re not supposed to give into their perverted requests, Scott!” Stiles scolds.

“Sorry, Stiles.” He says.

Scott starts to strip off his shirt.

“Take it off, Scott!” I cheer.

“Yeah! Woot! Woot!” Stiles the tortoise shouts.

Scott does a little dance for us as he spins around and whips his shirt around in circles above his head.

“Oh my God!” Stiles groans. “Don’t encourage them!”

“Dude,” Scott smirks. “I’m just having a little fun. It isn’t a big deal.”

“Your turn, Stiles!” I say.

“No way in Hell.” Stiles snaps.

 

The stadium lights illuminate the field in the dark-lit night. Beacon Hills is tied with the rivalry team. Lydia rests our mini-travel cage in her lap. Stiles the tortoise and I sit inside watching the game with Malia and her. Fellow spectators cheer in excitement as two team opponents approach the center circle to faceoff. The referee’s whistle sounds, and they’re off like speeding bullets. If you watch closely you can see some of the players’ eyes glow different hues.

There’s only twelve seconds left in the game.

Liam throws the ball to Stiles, and he catches it.

Ten seconds.

Stiles throws the ball to Scott before an opponent rushes in to block him.

Eight seconds.

Scott is already halfway to the goal.

Five seconds.

He sees Kira dead ahead nearing the goal and hurls the ball to her.

Three seconds.

Kira catches it and races towards the net.

One second.

She launches the ball into the back of net before the goalie has time to move.

SCORE!

The whistle sounds again.

“Beacon Hills wins!” The referee declares. Coach Finstock and spectators roar in victory.

Lydia and Malia look down into our cage to check on us. They see me standing in a puddle of pee.

“Ewww!” Lydia says, disgusted. Malia doesn’t even flinch.

“Sorry,” I tell her. “The last five seconds made me nervous.”

She rolls her eyes.

Team members gather in the center of the field to talk and celebrate.

“Great play you guys.” Stiles hugs Scott, Kira and Liam tightly. Lydia and Malia approach them.

“Good game,” Finstock says. “All of you smell like shit. Hit the showers before I throw up.”

Lydia gladly hands us over to Stiles.

“Thanks, Lydia.” Stiles says.

“Whatever,” She perks her lips and twirls a strand of hair. “Anyone could babysit two tortoises.”

People begin to disperse as Lacrosse players head towards the locker rooms to shower.

Stiles remains on the field making us promise him not to say a word when he takes us into the boys’ locker room.

“Will there be freshly showered hot naked guys?” I ask.

Stiles opens his mouth to respond when the three of us spot a dark haired figure standing in the distance from the sides of our eyes. The moment Stiles turns to look - it’s vanished without a trace.

“You coming, Stiles?” Scott asks, far ahead of him.

“Yeah,” Stiles turns to follow. He glances over at the empty space one last time.

 

Derek does a graceful somersault through the open bedroom window.

“Hey, hot stuff!” I say.

He approaches our cage and looks down at us.

“Where’s Stiles?” Derek asks.

“He’s at school,” I say. “Getting an education.”

“It helps prepare you for the real world,” Stiles the tortoise informs.

“I’m aware.” Derek says bluntly.

“Did you come over to fuck him?” I ask. He ignores our vulgar question.

“What time does he usually get home?” He asks.

“Three-thirtyish,” I tell him.

Derek looks at his phone to check the time. He should be home pretty soon.

“Not too bad,” Derek says.

“While you’re waiting can you clean this water dish?” I ask. “Stiles took a shit in it this morning.”

“I forgot to look.” Stiles the tortoise says.

“This is the third time you’ve done it, Stiles,” I say. “How many times do I have to tell you? Unless you want us to drink poop water for the rest of our lives – LOOK BEFORE YOU SHIT.”

Derek sighs deeply, before giving in and doing what we ask of him.

“Oh, how I’ve missed your musk!” Stiles the tortoise shouts as he leaves the room.

Derek knows better than to take his time when sticking his hand in our cage. Quickly, he sets the clean, shit-free water bowl down before I’m able to ambush it.

“How’s Stiles been?” Derek asks. He takes a seat on the edge of Stiles’ bed.

“I’ve been doing fantastic!” Stiles the tortoise says. “Thanks for asking.”

“How about you?” I ask.

“Other Stiles,” Derek clarifies.

“Do you want the truth or the lie?” I ask.

“The truth” Derek says. Suddenly, he hears the all-too familiar jeep outside. His heartbeat quickens. He listens to Stiles’ footsteps walk up the stairs and down the hall to his room.

“Derek” Stiles staggers.

“Hey” Derek grunts.

“Wow, really?!” Stiles snaps. He slips off his backpack and hurls it angrily onto the floor. Derek furrows his eyebrows. “After all this time ‘hey’ is the first thing you say to me? All because you had to go away and think?”

There’s a short pause.

“Yes?” Derek shrugs his shoulders.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Stiles says. “The least you could do is answer my phone calls or my texts.”

“Sorry” Derek says.  
“Oh my God,” Stiles crosses his arms. “Get the fuck out.” He points toward the window.

Derek winces and leaves. Stiles complains to us about him the rest of the day.

 

Scott continues to come over to ease Stiles’ heartache. Only more frequently than before. They watch movies, TV shows, play video games and listen to music. Anything to distract him. Scott is quick to comfort Stiles whenever he begins to breakdown. He’s loyal, caring, patient, understanding and a great listener.  Scott is one of the only people he isn’t afraid to feel and be vulnerable around.

 

A few days later, Stiles hangs out with us in the backyard. I chase Stiles the tortoise around in the grass. One of these days I’m going to catch the speedy little fucker.

“Come out,” The human says, eyes glued in his book. “I know you’re there.”

The werewolf steps out of the murky woods and into the sunlight.

“We need to talk.” Derek says. He sits down across from him.

Stiles slams his book closed and sets it aside to listen. “What do you want?” The human asks.

There’s a long pause.

 “You.” The werewolf says softly.

“What?” His mouth drops open. “What did you say?”

“I’ll show you what I mean.” Derek says. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?” Stiles asks.

“Trust me,” Derek grunts. Stiles gives him a funny look before closing his eyes. “Don’t move.”

The human closes his eyes and feels a hand cradle his cheek. The werewolf hears his heartbeat and breath quicken at his touch. His hand finds its way around the back of his head, gently tugging a lock of his hair. Stiles falls limb under his touch and tries to control his breathing as he does so.

Derek closes his eyes and slowly leans in to gently kiss him. Stiles’ heart and stomach flutter with excitement. The werewolf draws back to press their foreheads together.

Stiles the tortoise and I are in such shock from it all.

“Do you want me too?” Derek asks softer than a whisper.

“Yes.” Stiles says.

“It’d be forever…with me.” Derek makes himself sound like he’s Hell to be with.

“I’d be pretty down for forever with you.” Stiles loves the idea. For the first time ever, Derek Hale actually looks happy and smiles wider than he’s ever seen before.

They lean in again eagerly and kiss each other lightly.

“We’re going to be together forever right?” I turn and say to Stiles the tortoise.

“Of course we are!” Stiles the tortoise says and kisses me on my turtle cheek.


End file.
